


Champagne Problems

by city_of_fae



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst, F/M, cassian is a good guy but makes many mistakes, non romo for nesta/emerie in this fic BUT never say never (just not yet), sorry guys its lowkey anti rhys, taylor swift said this ones for the writers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:27:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28394604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/city_of_fae/pseuds/city_of_fae
Summary: "I dropped your hand while dancing, left you out there standing, crestfallen on the landing, champagne problems."-Nesta rejects Cassian, choosing herself over a man who could never choose.
Relationships: Elain Archeron & Feyre Archeron & Nesta Archeron, Nesta & Emerie, Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	Champagne Problems

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!! I haven't written acotar fic in yonks but this idea struck me and i just had to write it!! im obsessed with evermore, and this song is just so rich in angst and storytelling. also - this fic is lowkey anti inner circle, but mainly just anti-rhys. if you like those characters, fair enough!! but you probably won't like this fic, which is understandable. but if you do decide to read, i hope you enjoy!! xx

Standing on a boat headed for a new land, Nesta Archeron took one last look at Velaris and the place she could never call home. Like the Sidra, memories ebbed and flowed in and out of her mind, most bringing a stinging pain. She knew this was the right path – she could _never_ find true peace in Velaris, but by all accounts it ached somewhat awful. Not an ache in leaving the city, but some of its people.

An ache for leaving Elain, her sweet sister who had betrayed her as many times as she’d loved her. A memory washed in, of Elain needing a drink to face her at her very lowest. She’d been hell to be around – but they were sisters, were they not?

An ache for leaving Feyre, her sister alike in stubbornness and ferocity, yet completely different when they’d both needed each other. She didn’t really blame Feyre for her mistakes – she was so young, especially next to her ass of a husband. It was Rhys who’d motivated Feyre’s actions, twisted good intentions into foul actions. She hoped it wasn’t a true goodbye to her sisters, just a new, separate chapter. No matter what they, or the rest of their circle, believed, she loved them fiercely. As she always had.

Less of an ache, more of a twinge for leaving Amren, her strange friend in stranger times. It certainly wasn’t a true goodbye to her – immortality was far too long to avoid a being as old and wily as Amren.

But it was a tidal wave of pain that crashed through her as her mind turned to Cassian. Cassian, who she’d turned down. Who’d knelt on one knee, only to have his heart shattered by her refusal. Cassian, a good male, who’d ignored her suffering. The memories no longer ebbed and flowed, but collided, crushing into her faster than she could block. Drowning on dry land, on emotions that threatened to choke her.

_Music twinkled in the background, joyous and light for the occasion. Stars – or spirits, she wasn’t sure – soared across the skyline above her. The party roared in the background, but Nesta had found a quiet balcony to rest. Her hands yearned for the comfort of a drink, nearly burned from it. She held back. Both for herself, and because she wouldn’t be able to cope with how her sister’s family looked at her, scorn dripping from every angle. Her_ sisters’ _family, for Elain had been taken into their fold more readily than Nesta ever could._

_Not that she truly wanted to join their circle, or whatever they called themselves. It wasn’t the concept of the Inner Circle that infuriated her, not truly. A group of high fae and Illyrians alike, dedicated to governing their territory, seemed like a fine idea on the surface. What actual governing the group did, aside from public nudity and heavy drinking, remained to be seen._

_She felt a familiar presence at her back. Cassian cleared his throat, an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. She nodded in acknowledgement but she was not quite ready to speak._

_Tension had simmered around them since their return from the Illyrian Steppes. They’d been there for a cursed six months, and she’d hated almost every moment. The only times she’d relaxed had been in the company of Emerie, the delightfully witty female Illyrian, with whom Nesta had finally found a friend._

_Her sister, despite good intentions, had no idea what she was doing. The Steppes no more healed Nesta than the Spring Court had done for the High Lady. But, it had given her the realisation she needed._

_“Are you enjoying yourself?” Cassian said, fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt. Was he... nervous?_

_“Well enough.” Was her empty reply. It wasn’t like the last disastrous party she’d attended, where she’d been drowning in grief so thick she thought she would die. Wanted to die. No one had seen her that night, not even him. Not properly._

_They both remembered his harsh words that night – he’d never brought it up again, but she remembered. The sting of the words still reverberated across her skin. Unlovable._

_“Nesta, I...” He took a deep breath. Cassian, General of the Night Court, was stalling? “There’s something I want to speak with you about.”_

_She looked at him, properly this time. She could feel the anxiety rolling of him in waves. What was the matter?_

_He dropped to one knee, and her world crumbled._

_No – no, no, please no. Surely he wasn’t – was he? How could he possibly think that would fix them?_

_“Nesta-” She cut him off before he could start._

_“_ What _are you doing?” She hissed. This was a dream. All a bad dream. She hadn’t known her answer until he’d asked, but now... she couldn’t say yes. Not to him – not to this life. A long time ago, at the end of a war she wished to forget, she’d played her hand. Nearly sacrificed her life for him. Had_ ruined _herself in the process._

_In return, he had let her drown. Let her drown and insulted her on her way up._

_At her panic, his eyes widened, perhaps realising he’d shattered that little, blossoming thing before he could get the words out._

_“You’re- I’m your mate.” He said, as if it would fix things._

_Truthfully, she had known for months. Ever since the bond had snapped in place on her end during a meeting with his family. But a bond could always be broken._

_It wasn’t that she didn’t care for him – he was such a loving_ _male, he could make someone so happy. But he would never choose between her and his family, nor would she ever force his hand._

_She would never be a dirty secret. Never allow herself to watch her mate turn his back on her when his family arrived, or avoid her gaze in a crowded room. She was worth too much, to herself, for that._

_She hadn’t known the answer until he was on his knees asking, but the truth settled in her core._

_“I know.” She murmured. “But my answer is no.”_

_The pain on his face was brutal. This brave, clever, loving, male was breaking to pieces in front of her. She had taken his glass heart and shattered it at their feet._

_It pained her more than any physical wound, but the anchor of knowledge held her in place. She knew this was the right thing to do, no matter how much it hurt. No matter how she wished to take his face in her hands, to press her forehead against his own and ask for a new start for them both._

_Time had worked against them. Even for immortals, they would never get the luxury of time, not the way they’d want. There had been a promise, a long time ago, of wished time, but that too had shrivelled away._

_It hurt too much to dwell on all the things they would never had, especially looking in his eyes and seeing the devastation their actions had wreaked. What could have been. Kisses they’d never had, gentle moments never played out beyond imaginative fantasy. She would never touch his wings with the reverence they deserved, never feel his hands fist in her hair like as he loved her wholly._

_Cassian still knelt there, gazing up at her, true apology in his eyes. The worst part was knowing the truth – that he was sorry for hurting her, that he hated knowing he’d failed her when it mattered, that he was distraught at having broken all those promises. It was far too late for any of that to matter, but it did._

_“What can I do?” He reached out his hands, wanting her to take them, “What can I do to fix this?”_

_The answer was a bleak and empty nothing._

_Nesta tucked her hands behind her back. Whether to stop herself from reaching out, or something else, she didn’t know._

_Surely in fae terms, the pain would wash away soon. But her mind still operated on human timespans – eternity too big to conceptualise, so the pain of today had to be enough._

_Steeling herself, she took a deep breath. He could see it on her face, the finality of it all. It seemed to sink in what was happening, everything that they would lose. What she would gain independently, however long it would take._

_“Nesta...” A soft exhale, like his warrior body couldn’t handle the pain._

_There was nothing and everything to be said. Shattered potential lay between them like a physical barrier. It was hopeless to wish things were different; she wished, regardless._

_“I’m sorry, Cassian.” Her eyes stung, tears fighting to escape. She allowed herself one more moment to watch him, to exist in his presence._

_Perhaps one day, he would kneel for another and received a very different answer. Perhaps they, whoever they were, would be accepted into his family rather than scorned at every opportunity. Perhaps they would patch up the tapestry she just had shred._

_With one last glance at his beautiful, devastating face, she left him there, crestfallen._


End file.
